


the brightest days

by estel_willow



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, kiss fic, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 09:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow
Summary: They've been talking more. It's been good. That's not to say that everything's perfect, because there's no such thing, but they're communicating and talking and they have a firm no-touching rule in place that means - for the most part except when they're saying goodnight - that they're focused on actually listening to what each other's saying.Or, at least, that's what they'll say if they're asked.A series of kisses, a collection of moments, and dumb boys in love.





	the brightest days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beamirang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beamirang/gifts).

> Hope you enjoy, Bea!
> 
> Unbeta'd, so please forgive any mistakes!

They've been talking more. It's been good. That's not to say that everything's perfect, because there's no such thing, but they're communicating and talking and they have a firm no-touching rule in place that means - for the most part except when they're saying goodnight - that they're focused on actually listening to what each other's saying.

Or, at least, that's what they'll say if they're asked. In reality, Michael's often distracted by the way Alex's jaw twitches and he wets his lower lip slowly, living temptation. Alex is distracted by Michael's hair, the way it moves as he talks and gestures with hands that can take him apart piece by piece. Both of them get caught up in the memory of their bodies pressed together in the sanctity of a space that's just for them.

They said they'd do this right, so that's what they're trying to do. That means talking over milkshakes in the Crashdown and sharing stories to get to know each other in every way possible and doing their very, _very_ best not to say fuck it and give in, whisper truths against sweat-slick skin and breathe promises into the night air.

It's hard, but they're trying.

They've been talking more. It's been good.

***

"We're meant to be taking it slow," Alex breathes, head tipped back as Michael's tongue curls around the skin just underneath his ear, a precursor to teeth catching and tugging on the lobe. Alex's fingers twist in Michael's shirt and he uses it to tug him down from where Michael's kneeling on the chair beside him. Michael falls across his lap with a grunt but the position's better.

"Fuck slow," Michael grumbles, kissing along Alex's jaw and then finally sealing their lips together. Alex groans into the kiss as Michael shifts his weight slightly and what could have been a sweet moment where they just cuddle on the couch begins very swiftly moving into more explicit territory. He takes the lead and moves, straddling Alex's thighs with his own and bracing himself on the cushion on either side of Alex's head.

"We're meant to be ta-fffu-talking," Alex protests but it's half-hearted at best. His hand's sliding up the back of Michael's t-shirt as the other twists and tangles in the curls that consistently drive him to distraction. He tugs lightly and is rewarded with a stuttering breath and a rocking down of Michael's hips that make his push up in response. 

Their lips meet again and it's everything; teeth biting at a lower lip, a tongue soothing the sting away, a muffled laugh and then a groan as hips roll and belts click and collide. 

Talking, at least for now, is forgotten.

***

The sun's streaming through the gap in the peeling, yellowed paper of the Airstream and Alex blinks, waking up slowly and reluctantly rousing from a very pleasant sleep. He's rested, more so than he usually is, and he feels sated and boneless, comfortable and warm. The weight of Michael's arm around his shoulders, fingers absently drawing circles against his skin in his sleep makes a small smile curve upwards on Alex's lips.

He lifts his head from where it's pillowed on Michael's chest and runs his fingers down the flat planes of his stomach. He watches Michael's face as he starts to wake up slowly, looking away to press gentle kisses up Michael's sternum. He lets his touch roam and his lips wander as he maps the lines of Michael's chest with butterfly kisses. 

"Mm," Michael manages, voice sleep-rough and soft, "you stayed." 

Alex lifts his head, rests his chin in the dip at the base of Michael's sternum and tips his head into the fingers that brush through his hair like a cat. "You're never letting that go, huh," he manages and Michael chuckles in response.

"Never gonna get used to waking up with you next to me, darlin', not even after doing it for twenty years," he admits and Alex feels his cheeks catch a little. He goes back to kissing his way down Michael's chest because it's easier than looking into those sincere, honey-coloured eyes and seeing Michael looking at him like he's the only anchor in the universe but he doesn't miss the breathy and whispered confession of "Fuck, Alex- I love you."

***

"I'm sorry, you did what?"

Barnes snorts and knocks back what's left of his beer as Alex splutters into his drink, glaring daggers at his friend who just looked innocently delighted at having managed to make Michael nearly choke on his pretzel. 

"No harm no foul, Guerin, you guys weren't together." When Michael opens his mouth to protest, Barnes just holds up a finger. "Where were we, some undercover thing in Europe, right, Alex?" 

"Yeah," Alex grumbles, elbowing Barnes hard but trying to get him to stop when he's started is like trying to stop a freight train with a skipping rope. It's impossible and messy and so Alex just slides down into the booth and watches in mortification as the conversation rapidly gets out of control.

He's not drunk enough for this.

"So, anyway, Alex is a damn good kisser, Guerin," Barnes starts with a grin, watching Michael's expression contort again as he wars with himself trying to not outwardly show how jealous he is that Barnes not only has Alex's confidence - and makes him smile on a regular fucking basis - but that also now he knows how Alex kisses?! "We were on a mission in Europe, and Alex was trying to hack into this office..."

> "Alex," Barnes mutters, looking back down the hall. The party's in full swing but they'll be missed sooner rather than later if they don't get back soon. Alex is a motherfucking wizard with computers and getting things opened that people don't want open but at this rate, Barnes is in favour of blowing the fucking lock up so they can get in and get out before someone walks down the hall and sees them lingering by a keypad in a place they are Not Supposed To Be. "Hurry the fuck up."
> 
> "Patience is a virtue," Alex replies, unflappable as ever, without even looking up from the small console. The numbers are rotating quickly and of the six he needs, he has four. It'll be done before Barnes can bitch again about him taking his sweet time and they'll be in the office. "But by all means, bitch more. The encryption's major weakness is human impatience."
> 
> Barnes grumbles under his breath and moves a little closer. "You know, if only we could bottle your attitude we could use it as a new form of clean energy," he retorts and Alex laughs under his breath. "Fucker."
> 
> "You wanna take over?" Alex asks, glancing up at Barnes and lifting his eyebrow. Barnes rolls his eyes, but that's answer enough and Alex just nods, smugly. "Thought as much. Aren't you meant to be on watch further up?"
> 
> Five numbers. One more to go. Sweet.
> 
> Barnes barely hesitates before he says, "I've got a bad feeling about this."
> 
> "Alright, Obi-Wan."
> 
> "Luke, please."
> 
> "In your dreams, if anything you're Chewbacca and I'm-"
> 
> "Ssh." Barnes straightens up, both of them falling silent and joking banter being dropped as the sound of footsteps catches their attention. "Fuck- I told you you needed to be faster."
> 
> "I'm one number away," Alex snaps, "we can't leave now. Another couple of minutes."
> 
> "Another couple of minutes and we'll be shot in the face and we're both too pretty to have our faces blown off." Barnes tugs on Alex's arm but he doesn't move. 
> 
> "I can do this."
> 
> "I know, I don't doubt it but it's not fast enough!"
> 
> Voices join the footsteps and Barnes panics. He manages a quick _do you trust me?_ and the _of course I do stupid_ expression is all he needs. He takes the machine from Alex's hand and holds it in his own, crowding Alex against the wall, covering the lock they're trying to hack past. 
> 
> "What're you doing?" Alex hisses, but Barnes just grins at him all teeth. 
> 
> "You said you trusted me, Alex." 
> 
> Alex opens his mouth to give a sarcastic retort but Barnes closes the distance between them and kisses him. It's not his first rodeo kissing a bloke, he's done it a fair number of times but this is the first time kissing _Alex_. He'd be lying if he says he's never thought about it, but Alex has that complicated thing going with the curly-haired bastard back home and fuck if Barnes is getting involved in that shit as anything other than a good friend.
> 
> As far as kisses go, considering there was no lead-up, it's not bad. Alex is slightly less aggressive than he expected but after a few moments he gets with the programme. He pushes up into the kiss as he realises what's happening and breaks the kiss with a soft, almost drunken laugh. Barnes smiles into it and, playing along, chases Alex's retreat with his lips, leading to another kiss, softer but somehow filthier as Alex's hands rest at his waist and he lets Barnes crowd him further, pressing close. 
> 
> "What the-" the voices 'interrupt' the moment and Barnes pulls away, managing to affect a remarkably believable drunk expression, stumbling a little and catching himself on Alex's shoulder, nudging his nose with his temple affectionately. Alex, to his credit, plays along. 
> 
> "Shiiiiiit, mate, I'm sorry, we just- uh, well, y'know how it is. You have some wine and just wanna get away wiv your boy, innit." He grins, thickening his accent and sounding more like a Londoner than he knows Alex has ever heard him. "We're far enough away that no littlies are gonna see anything _indecent_."
> 
> "This, uh- this is a restricted area, gentlemen." The guard looks uncomfortable but Barnes is leaning down and brushing his nose along Alex's again. "Uh- just- take it somewhere else."
> 
> "Right on," Barnes said with another toothy grin. "Y'alright love?" he asks, and the pad buzzes in his hand. 
> 
> "Mm," Alex replies, "just need a minute." His eyes slide to the guards, any discomfort at being outwardly... 'out' successfully masked.
> 
> "Just move on. You've got five minutes and when we get back you better be gone."
> 
> Barnes fires off a mock salute and dives in to kiss Alex again, breaking away when the men disappear down around the corner.
> 
> "And we're in, right? Unless your spine has a habit of buzzing when someone makes out with you."
> 
> Alex rolls his eyes and shoves Barnes off him, unlocking the door so they can slide into the office. 
> 
> When the guards come back, five minutes later, they're gone.

Michael's wide-eyed shock at the story would be appealing if it didn't come with a rattling of glasses on the table and a white-knuckled grip around the neck of his beer bottle. It'd also be less embarrassing if Barnes hadn't slung his arm around Alex's shoulders halfway through his explicitly detailed recount and ruffled Alex's hair like the asshole he is.

"Told you," he says to Michael, "you guys weren't a thing so you can't be mad at me."

"I can," Michael replies, "because you kissed him without his permission in public and-"

"-he wasn't complaining," Barnes points out, "and you should know better than anyone that Alex doesn't do anything he doesn't wa-"

"Alex is right here," Alex says finally, "and he's had enough of wandering down memory lane because if you're not careful, he'll recount the Bahrain Incident."

Barnes closes his mouth and sobers, glancing at the time. "Well, I mean, it's late. Prolly should head back to the motel, eh."

"Yeah," Alex says with a little grin. "Probably wise."

Barnes eases himself out of the booth with a salute. "See you losers tomorrow," he says, tapping his fingers on the table and heading out of the bar, weaving his way through the crowd expertly.

Michael hesitates and Alex lifts his gaze curiously to watch Michael tap his fingers on the table awkwardly before stretching his arm across the back of the booth. Alex, seeing it for what it is, moves a little closer, into Michael's space and the arm around the booth drops to rest around his shoulders instead.

A kiss, coloured with a smile, is pressed against Alex's temple but it does little to drain the tension from Michael's body.

"Did I tell you about the time I punched Barnes and nearly broke his jaw?" Alex asks, punctuating the silence with words and Michael shakes his head. "Would it make you feel better to hear about it?"

"Much," Michael says a little too quickly, nudging Alex's temple again. 

Stealing a brief kiss - and in the bustling chaos of the bar that feels like a huge step - and finishing off his beer, Alex takes a breath and starts talking.

Michael, enchanted, just sits and listens and feels his chest swelling with pride and happiness that Alex is finally sharing stories of his time in the Air Force.

It feels like a huge step forward and Michael's here for it.

***

"Don't be dramatic," Alex says, nudging Michael's nose with his own. "It's only for two days."

"Two days too long," Michael whines. He thinks it's adorable and endearing. Alex agrees, but he'll never admit that out loud. 

"It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Can't you just... be late? Get the next flight out? Stay here for a bit longer?"

Alex laughs, pushing his fingers gently through Michael's hair and brushing that stubborn curl off his forehead. "I can't, Michael. If I do that, the venue won't be ready and when everyone else arrives with you they'll have a longer wait." 

Michael pouts. "I still don't see why I can't come out early too. I'm getting married as well."

"Because Isobel and I have plans and, I love you, but you'd get in the way. We've got a lot to do and if you were there, we'd just be holed up in a hotel room on the beachfront doing no wedding planning and all of our honeymoon celebrations."

Michael snorts and has to concede that Alex makes a good point. His expression says as much. 

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it."

"Just think about Thursday when I'll be picking you up at the airport," Alex croons, leaning up and stealing a chaste kiss, "two days before our wedding."

Michael's arms slide around Alex's waist and tug him in close, their bodies fitting flush like puzzle pieces, seamless like the console Michael's had broken down, sections of it embedded into the rings Max is guarding with his life. 

"One last kiss before you go, then?" Michael asks, and Alex - with a fond, soft, adoring smile - leans up to comply.

(He also ends up missing his flight and takes the next one out, much to his future sister-in-law's chagrin, but it's worth it. Michael is worth everything.)


End file.
